In Which I Get My Boots Dusty
and eye the scale with trepidation...
On Friday morning, bewcastle and I departed for the Central Coast along with Rzelle and CDSB for a long weekend doing fun stuff around Morro Bay. Mission accomplished!
After a delightfully stress-free drive up the coast, enhanced by delightful company and engaging conversation that would characterize the whole trip, we arrived at our temporary abode, the aptly-named Sea View Inn, located just three blocks from the water. Not a luxury resort by any stretch of the imagination, but clean, well-tended, and comfortable, which was really all we needed.
After depositing our luggage, we headed out for a quick exploration of the Embaracadero, which led us to Morro Rock itself, the massive and eye-catching mound at the north end of bay that gives the place its name. We saw sea otters in the nearby kelp bed, peregrine falcons gliding from their aeries on the rock cliffs on the updrafts, and were warned by a sign by the shore to beware "waves of unusual size". But we didn't see any - I don't believe they exist.
After checking out the nature on the north end of town, we headed back to more civilized surroundings for the first of what would be a series of excellent dinners - this one at a lovely Italian place with a view of the water (another trope of the weekend...). I had a delightful clam chowder, but bewcastle loyally claimed that mine was better.
After finishing our meal, we headed back to our lodgings, where CDSB introduced us to a hilarously sick card game called "Guillotine", in which the players were executioners during the French Revolution competing to collect the most prestigious heads to amass points towards victory. Cutthroat competition at this game was another trope of the weekend - and a source of endless amusement and hilarity (including my impromptu verses of "Bad Nun" sung to the tune of "Bad Horse" whenever that particular card came up from the deck...)
Saturday we headed up to San Simeon to visit Heast Castle. Sweet Raisin Danish. I'd been told by friends to expect spectacular excess, but nothing prepared me for the sheer monumental extravagance of the place! The guy lived in a mansion buit to look like a Spanish baroque cathedral! Our two tours took us through one of the three guest houses, the Roman ruins-themed outdoor swimming pool, the massive public rooms (entrance hall, dining room, billiards room, theater, and indoor swimming pool with 24-carat gold mosaic tile) and the equally luxurious and antiquities-stuffed private rooms (including Hearst's own bedroom and the room of his "friend" Marion Davies, connected by a living room of particular opulance - and a well-worn carpet - along with a massive private library and an "office" of enviable ostentation). After two back-to-back tours that took us up and down over 400 steps, we dined on BBQ beef sandwiches made from grass-fed meat raised on the ranch itself.
Driving back to Morro Bay, we stopped at the Harmony Cellars winery, where we enjoyed a delicious tasting - six good wines for three bucks. The reds were a bit musty and acerbic for our taste, but the whites were a great balance of crisp and mellow, and the ruby port was a real revelation - two bottles of the port were procured, along with a a bottle of a very nice white Riesling.
Dinner that night was preceeded by a trip to the salt water taffy shop, where they offered a 4th pound free with a three pound purchase. Who am I to turn down a deal like that, right? Right? Well, the taffy looks delightfully cheery poured into big glass jars in the kitchen, so there! After my assault on the taffy baskets, we repaired to The Galley, a justifiably highly praised seafood place with, yes, a view of the water. Chowder a bit better than the Italian place from Friday, but bewcastle still maintained mine's better. My pan-grilled scallops were done to a turn - probably the best meal of the weekend, although that's a close competition.
More Guillotine in the room afterwards, and a reasonably early night, as Sunday we had Big Plans.
Sunday we headed south to Los Osos where we went horseback riding at the Morro Bay Dunes nature preserve. Because we were riding on the sand, we could let the horses run - something very rare for commercial horseback riding. What a blast! I'd been riding before, but I'd never been able to go at more than a walk. I have a new appreciation for jockeys and steeplechase riders - and knights. Yeah, those guys at Medieval Times? Those are some seriously brave fellows.
Upon our return from riding, we checked out a couple more wine tasting rooms in Morro Bay itself. Our first visit was very nice, but the offerings were quite pricy, and the sophistication of my palate (or lack thereof, to be precise) really could not justify the expense. At our second stop, however, we were pleasantly surprised to find an offering from a local vinyard in Malibu! Who knew? Not I, that's for sure. But the Sauvignon Blanc was smooth and mellow and well worth the price, which Rzelle and I split. I think a local tasting trip may be in order!
After some down time in the afternoon to recover from our oenophillic exertions, and yet another round of Guillotine, we headed back out for our final dinner of the trip. Our eventual destination, after checking out several candidates, was a piratically-themed establishment called The Flying Dutchman. We were initially somewhat dubious of the kitschy decor and over the top buccaneering theme, but the view (of the water, you guessed it!) and the food were superb, belying our initial doubts. My sea bass with cajun-spiced cream sauce was excellent, and the clam chowder was the best we tasted over the whole trip. My beloved bewcastle stood by her chowder-making man in her assessments, but I have to admit that my victory is more due to the small batches I cook in (and therefore the volume of clams I can include in my soup tureen) than any fault of the Dutchman's chowder chef.
Sunday evening, with no early plans for Monday save a timely departure to get in ahead of the wave of rush-hour LA traffic, we stayed up late having a thoroughly engaging and wide-ranging discussion that ran the gamut from politics to history to 19th-century medicine to game design to roleplaying philosophy. The wine and food and hour got to us around 1:00, and off to bed we went.
Our return trip was a mirror image of our departure, with delightful company and engaging conversation making the relatively traffic-snarl free hours fly by. Stay tuned, gentle reader, for a Live Game Renaissance, of CDSB's plots come to fruition!
You heard it here first!
On Friday morning, bewcastle and I departed for the Central Coast along with Rzelle and CDSB for a long weekend doing fun stuff around Morro Bay. Mission accomplished!
After a delightfully stress-free drive up the coast, enhanced by delightful company and engaging conversation that would characterize the whole trip, we arrived at our temporary abode, the aptly-named Sea View Inn, located just three blocks from the water. Not a luxury resort by any stretch of the imagination, but clean, well-tended, and comfortable, which was really all we needed.
After depositing our luggage, we headed out for a quick exploration of the Embaracadero, which led us to Morro Rock itself, the massive and eye-catching mound at the north end of bay that gives the place its name. We saw sea otters in the nearby kelp bed, peregrine falcons gliding from their aeries on the rock cliffs on the updrafts, and were warned by a sign by the shore to beware "waves of unusual size". But we didn't see any - I don't believe they exist.
After checking out the nature on the north end of town, we headed back to more civilized surroundings for the first of what would be a series of excellent dinners - this one at a lovely Italian place with a view of the water (another trope of the weekend...). I had a delightful clam chowder, but bewcastle loyally claimed that mine was better.
After finishing our meal, we headed back to our lodgings, where CDSB introduced us to a hilarously sick card game called "Guillotine", in which the players were executioners during the French Revolution competing to collect the most prestigious heads to amass points towards victory. Cutthroat competition at this game was another trope of the weekend - and a source of endless amusement and hilarity (including my impromptu verses of "Bad Nun" sung to the tune of "Bad Horse" whenever that particular card came up from the deck...)
Saturday we headed up to San Simeon to visit Heast Castle. Sweet Raisin Danish. I'd been told by friends to expect spectacular excess, but nothing prepared me for the sheer monumental extravagance of the place! The guy lived in a mansion buit to look like a Spanish baroque cathedral! Our two tours took us through one of the three guest houses, the Roman ruins-themed outdoor swimming pool, the massive public rooms (entrance hall, dining room, billiards room, theater, and indoor swimming pool with 24-carat gold mosaic tile) and the equally luxurious and antiquities-stuffed private rooms (including Hearst's own bedroom and the room of his "friend" Marion Davies, connected by a living room of particular opulance - and a well-worn carpet - along with a massive private library and an "office" of enviable ostentation). After two back-to-back tours that took us up and down over 400 steps, we dined on BBQ beef sandwiches made from grass-fed meat raised on the ranch itself.
Driving back to Morro Bay, we stopped at the Harmony Cellars winery, where we enjoyed a delicious tasting - six good wines for three bucks. The reds were a bit musty and acerbic for our taste, but the whites were a great balance of crisp and mellow, and the ruby port was a real revelation - two bottles of the port were procured, along with a a bottle of a very nice white Riesling.
Dinner that night was preceeded by a trip to the salt water taffy shop, where they offered a 4th pound free with a three pound purchase. Who am I to turn down a deal like that, right? Right? Well, the taffy looks delightfully cheery poured into big glass jars in the kitchen, so there! After my assault on the taffy baskets, we repaired to The Galley, a justifiably highly praised seafood place with, yes, a view of the water. Chowder a bit better than the Italian place from Friday, but bewcastle still maintained mine's better. My pan-grilled scallops were done to a turn - probably the best meal of the weekend, although that's a close competition.
More Guillotine in the room afterwards, and a reasonably early night, as Sunday we had Big Plans.
Sunday we headed south to Los Osos where we went horseback riding at the Morro Bay Dunes nature preserve. Because we were riding on the sand, we could let the horses run - something very rare for commercial horseback riding. What a blast! I'd been riding before, but I'd never been able to go at more than a walk. I have a new appreciation for jockeys and steeplechase riders - and knights. Yeah, those guys at Medieval Times? Those are some seriously brave fellows.
Upon our return from riding, we checked out a couple more wine tasting rooms in Morro Bay itself. Our first visit was very nice, but the offerings were quite pricy, and the sophistication of my palate (or lack thereof, to be precise) really could not justify the expense. At our second stop, however, we were pleasantly surprised to find an offering from a local vinyard in Malibu! Who knew? Not I, that's for sure. But the Sauvignon Blanc was smooth and mellow and well worth the price, which Rzelle and I split. I think a local tasting trip may be in order!
After some down time in the afternoon to recover from our oenophillic exertions, and yet another round of Guillotine, we headed back out for our final dinner of the trip. Our eventual destination, after checking out several candidates, was a piratically-themed establishment called The Flying Dutchman. We were initially somewhat dubious of the kitschy decor and over the top buccaneering theme, but the view (of the water, you guessed it!) and the food were superb, belying our initial doubts. My sea bass with cajun-spiced cream sauce was excellent, and the clam chowder was the best we tasted over the whole trip. My beloved bewcastle stood by her chowder-making man in her assessments, but I have to admit that my victory is more due to the small batches I cook in (and therefore the volume of clams I can include in my soup tureen) than any fault of the Dutchman's chowder chef.
Sunday evening, with no early plans for Monday save a timely departure to get in ahead of the wave of rush-hour LA traffic, we stayed up late having a thoroughly engaging and wide-ranging discussion that ran the gamut from politics to history to 19th-century medicine to game design to roleplaying philosophy. The wine and food and hour got to us around 1:00, and off to bed we went.
Our return trip was a mirror image of our departure, with delightful company and engaging conversation making the relatively traffic-snarl free hours fly by. Stay tuned, gentle reader, for a Live Game Renaissance, of CDSB's plots come to fruition!
You heard it here first!